Every Picture Tells A Story
by EmmaJoie
Summary: She's the model that every sees as a bad influence. He's the 'down-to-Earth' family man/basketball player with the image to uphold. Of course, only mayhem can come from this! Rated T for language, and occasional drug use. Peyton's POV. Totally AU.
1. Chapter 1

**So, this IS going to be a multi fic. And I'm going to try and write it in advance, so that my usual problem of not uploading EVER is avoided ;)**

**Prompt by Leijona on Lexie's prompt forum**

**http:/ forum. fanfiction. net/ forum/ Story_ Prompts / 107161/ (lose those spaces guys!)**

**So, hope you all enjoy this first chapter ;)**

Chapter 1

Now…

They say every picture tells a story. If that's true, I have a lot of stories. Most of them meaningless, most of them having no actual input into what I call my life. I guess you can say there are a few of these picture-telling photos out there that actually hold some kind of significance to me, actually let people see the real me: Peyton Sawyer, a _normal_ girl. But most of them, ha. Most of them, they show you what the camera want you to see: Peyton _Wolfe_, teenage drug addict. Illegitimate daughter of rock legend Mick Wolfe. Party addict. Best friend of Brooke Davis – the multi-millionaire and international design sensation. High school dropout. Worthless. The girl that models for a living, for her best friend because she couldn't do anything else. Home wrecker. Most of the time, they're so convincing, even I start to believe them. 'Like, oh my gosh, I'm a drug addict?' never mind the fact my mother is dead due to drugs, I'd never dare go near them. But sometimes all of this scares me. I mean, if I can start believing these absurd rumours, that I _know _aren't true, then what about the rest of the population, so eager for gossip about celebrities, to them I am a mess. And why? Because of that little old saying, every picture tells a story. Only problem is, sometimes, it's just that: a story. No fact behind it at all. So you want a picture that has a story? Oh, I'll give you a picture. You can have the whole damn, sordid affair…

One year ago…

'Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer!' Brooke Davis, my best friend, shouted my name as soon as I entered her New York store. Her hair was styled perfectly, and her dress was designed (by herself) with her in mind, so it both fit perfectly and flattered her in all the right places. Most people would probably be scared that a famous fashion designer was shouting at them, but I could see the smile etched on her face, which let me know I wasn't on trouble.

'Hey?' I asked, not quite sure what she was up to.

'You whore!' she squealed. I looked at her, checking for any signs of insanity: shouting rude words in her shop, that couldn't be good for business could it? Before I realised the shop was closed, and that it was fashion week tomorrow, and she always closes the Sunday beforehand to prepare.

I laughed then, finding her outburst comical, another press release of who I supposedly slept with last night. 'Who did I fuck now?' I asked, an eyebrow cocked, I was intrigued.

Brooke scowled at me, 'You make it sound worse when you word it like that. Mind your language in my shop.' Her face broke out in a grin. 'Do you really want to know?' she asked me, barely being able to contain her excitement.

Not really. But I couldn't say that and ruin her fun, so I smirked at her. 'Go on, then. Spill all.'

'Nathan Scott!' she blurted so fast I almost missed it. 'Number 23, small forward for the New York Knicks?'

I laughed at her, 'I do know who Nathan Scott is Brookie.' I told her winking.

'Well?' she asked, I didn't reply. She huffed. 'Did you actually sleep with him?'

I looked at her with what I can only assume was an indignant expression on my face (yes- I know what indignant means.) 'You assumed I did it? Some best friend you are!' I tutted at her. 'Isn't he married?'

She looked at me; her mouth hanging slightly open like I said something stupid, then she spoke. 'Has that ever stopped you before?' she asked, raising her eyebrow at me, before slapping her hand over her mouth. 'Ouch, that was bitchy, sorry P.' a look of regret in her eyes.

'It's fine.' I dismissed her comment with a wave of my hand. 'And, no. I did not sleep with Nathan Scott. I've never even spoken to him before in my life… wait – why do you look disappointed by that?'

She smiled sheepishly. 'well, because his wife, Haley, is coming in today, she's going to work alongside you as the face for the company, don't get upset!' she warned me, unnecessarily I might add, 'But it will be good for the company, she's a rock star you know.' She stopped for a breath and to stick her tongue out at me. 'Anyway, you know how much I love drama. I would have so much fun if you'd slept with her husband!'

It sounded really bitchy, but I knew it wasn't. Brooke has been my best friend since I was about nine. But we met when I was six, in Bellevue Hospital, and my mother had just died…

_I slumped to the floor. The words ringing in my ears. 'Your mommy didn't make it pumpkin.' The kindly faced nurse called Lindsey had told me. 'Do you know your daddy's number?' I remember shaking my head, my vision being blurry from my tears, before I screamed, watching her flinch at my high pitch, then ran away. To this very spot, outside the building, in a courtyard for family and friends, sobbing. I barely noticed all the people walking past me, some trying to ask me if I was ok, but I just ignored them, sobbing quietly._

_Until, 'Are you ok?' it was definitely a girl's voice, a young one. Someone about my age maybe, so I looked up, right into her deep brown eyes, filled with concern. Her hair was a shoulder length chocolate colour, and she had a pretty pink flower in her hair._

'_My mommy just died.' I told her. I saw her mouth open into a little 'o' shape, and she sat next to me, putting her arm around my shoulder._

'_I'm sorry.' She told me. And I sobbed into her shoulder._

'_I have no one to look after me anymore. My daddy doesn't want me either! He's a rock star and can't look after me properly my mommy used to say.' I cried._

'_I'll look after you.' She told me, a fire burning behind her eyes, letting me know that it was true. 'I'm Brooke Davis.' She told me, sticking her small hand out to me._

'_Peyton Wolfe.' I replied, shaking her hand. She sat with me for ages, hugging me when I cried, telling me it was all going to be ok. About an hour or so later, I heard a man speak._

'_Peyton, honey?' I looked up, into my father's bright green eyes. He had my twin brother, Julian, with him. Tears still openly falling down his childish face, and I think my father's eyes were a bit watery too._

'_Daddy!' I jumped up, hugging him. 'Mommy died. She had a bag of the flour stuff, and she put it in her nose. Why would she put it in her nose, Daddy?'_

'_I don't know, Pear-drop. She was silly. Come on, we have to go. Aunty Anna said you can go live with her.' He told me._

'_Can't I live with you, Daddy?' I asked, my bottom lip sticking out._

'_No, sorry Pear. You can't. You're lucky that Julian had my number in his pocket. Come on. We have to go now.' He took my hand, and started pulling me away. _

_I turned around, looking at my new friend, and her face was sad. She waved at me. 'Bye Peyton!'_

'_Bye, Brooke. I'll see you later ok?' I told her, before getting in a taxi with my father and brother. Straight to the airport, then off to Tree Hill, North Carolina. Maybe, I wouldn't see my new friend ever again. I sat back in the taxi, crying. Crying for my mother's death, as well as having to leave behind little Brooke Davis._

I didn't know then that I _would_ see her again. Two years, and a name change later. When my father's sister, Anna, died in a car crashed, and her husband, who I'd seen as a father-figure couldn't bear the sight of either me or Julian anymore and sent us straight back to 'Daddy dearest.' I kept the Sawyer, as a reminder that people will always leave you. Mick signed us up straight away to the most expensive private school he could find, his attempt I guess to make up for being a lousy father. And who would be in all my classes _other_ than the Brooke Davis from outside the hospital. We knew straight away this was our big reunion. And she didn't ask me any questions. She just hugged me. We've been best friends ever since.

I coughed, snapping myself out of my little trip down memory lane. 'That would be saucy, I guess.' I told her, winking. 'When does she come, anyway?'

Brooke looked at the clock behind the counter. 'Ooh, now! Well around about now, I don't know, soon? I'm really excited about this because it will…'

I never got to hear what would happen, because the bell above the door chimed, and a woman spoke. 'Hi, I'm Haley James, you said I should come down today?' she said.

I turned around, and saw a petite woman with honey toned long hair, and stood next to her, the most beautiful man I had ever seen. His hair was jet black, and his eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue. I knew exactly who this man was: Nathan Scott, number 23, small forward for the New York Knicks. And my 'supposed' new fling.

'I brought my husband, is that ok?' Haley asked.

'Perfectly fine.' Brooke replied, going over to greet them both, showing Nathan to the comfortable purple couch, then pointing Haley in the direction of the 'magnificent room at the back' as Brooke calls it. She went to follow Haley, but managed to look at me, pointing at Nathan, mouthing 'he's hot!' to me when she thought he wasn't looking, before turning around and leaving. Unfortunately, judging by the grin on his face. He saw exactly what she said.

'Hi.' He said to me when Brooke had gone.

'Hey.'

'You're Peyton Wolfe, right?' he asked me, a cocky grin on his face.

'Sawyer.' I replied coldly.

'Sorry, sorry. You get used to the media names.' He laughed. 'So you're my little bit on the side?'

I grinned. 'That's me.'

'Mmm.' He said. 'That sounds about right. Damn, you're hot.' He winked at me, and then stood up. 'I'm bored. You wanna go get some coffee?' he asked me.

I nodded. Damn, this was going to get interesting.

***NOT PROOF READ IN THE SLIGHTEST, SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES***

**I know this wasn't very long, but I think I think I'm going to have fun with this one. Reviews mean a lot guys, and I love to know what you all thought of it, so let me know! EmmaJoie xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Right, so just in case any of you are going to get confused, this story is NOT going to be completely in Peyton's point of view, it's going to jump all over the place until I find one I like ;) so last chapter was Peyton, this chapter is going to jump between Peyton and Nathan, then the next one might even be in the third person :') I may try a little bit of Haley and Brooke. Maybe even a bit of Lucas, if I can be bothered to write him into this. I'll make sure to let you know if it's in a POV from now on, otherwise, expect the third person.**

Chapter 2

_**Nathan's POV**_

Sometimes I really hate being under constant scrutiny from the press and those vultures that call invading people's personal space a _job_. Personally, I'd call them stalkers, but, whatever. I had an upbringing in a small little town, in North Carolina, Growing up with my half-brother, basketball was our 'safe' place. Now it's just another way for those corporate jackasses to squeeze money out of me… but I could never bring myself to stop, never quit basketball, so here I am. In New York. Playing for the New York Knicks. With my 'perfect' family life: wife, a kid that I absolutely adore with all my life. Well make that a cheating wife, who only cares about her career and fucking Chris Keller, and a kid that I absolutely adore. I heard a saying once. That every picture tells a story? I can tell you right now for a fact that about ninety-nine per cent of them are absolute bullshit. Look at me, my pictures show, Nathan Scott: family man, with the perfect wife and the perfect kid. Loves the New York lifestyle. Never mind bothering about the rest of his family, the ones that supported him his entire life? Nah. You don't get to see the real me. Nathan Scott: Emotional wreck on the most part. A cheating wife. _Hates _the New York lifestyle. But then, I guess it wouldn't be very good for the public eye if everyone knew the truth about my particular family life…

* * *

I walked alongside her, her beautiful long legs glistening in the summer sun, clearly shown off by her _very _short shorts. A simple tank top covering her torso that would look boring on anyone else, but was fascinating on her tanned shoulders, accentuating all of her curves in just the right places. I trailed my eyes up her body to her perfectly curly hair, to her beautiful big green eyes, and over the soft curve of her nose, to her perfect lips, which I realised with a start, were moving.

'What?' I asked her, trying not to let my gaze slip back over her body.

'Looking at me perv?' she grinned at me, and I smirked back, nodding confidently. 'Why what would your pretty little wife say about that?' she asked me with a slight southern tang to her voice.

My grin faltered, but not enough for her to notice. 'Well, she'd probably say, 'Nate, she's hot. Go for it!'' I laughed and Peyton shook her head.

'In your dreams maybe. I said, where are we going?'

'There's a little coffee shop down here, too far away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.' I winked at her. 'I'm sure you wouldn't mind that?'

She shook her head. 'Not at all.'

_**Peyton's POV**_

He took me to the opening of an alley way, and for a moment, I had to stop and check for murderers. 'You're not going to kill me are you?' I asked uncertainly.

He chuckled; the sound was deep and made my stomach flip. 'Nope, I promise I'm not going to murder you.' He winked at me, and then took my hand. 'Trust me.'

'Ok.' I whispered. Confused slightly as to why I was trusting this almost stranger.

He laughed at what I assume was the look of utter confusion on my face. 'So then, Miss _Sawyer._ He asked me, big city girl like you, how have you never found my secret café?'

I laughed lightly, 'despite what the pap says, I don't actually get out a lot.'

'And when you do?' he asked me.

I shrugged. 'I have fun.' I said simply. 'I'm not bothered about them when I'm out, which is why I've been portrayed as a ''wild child''.' I used air quotes around my label.

He laughed at me. 'OK then, Sawyer. Fair enough.'

He led me further down the alleyway, and my fear of being murdered only escalated when the alley branched off into four different directions. He took the sharp left turn, guiding me along behind him. I flinched as we walked past what I was sure as a brothel, and tried not to pay attention to the seedy looking men shaking hands, or exchanging drugs, in a dirty doorframe. I shivered, and felt Nathan pull me slightly closer to him, gripping my arm ever so slightly more tightly, until we stopped outside a big brick building, with windows covered in mirrors, a dirty green door, and a slight flickering sign, with so many broken bulbs which read 'HT MAS' instead of what should have been 'HOT MAMAS'.

'Oh, God,' I said. 'Please don't tell me this is a strip club!' I whisper shouted at him.

He smirked at me, 'I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.' He told me before pushing open the big green door.

We walked into a big lobby, which was a lot more posh on the inside than out, past two burly bouncers, who looked at us swiftly, before sitting up straighter in their chairs and nodding slightly at us, and to a single door at the end. 'You ready for this?' Nathan asked me.

'I was born ready, baby.' I told him, winking.

He pushed open the door and I gasped, the place was furnished like a proper high end coffee shop, which hardwood floors, and plush armchairs. I saw there were large windows with a view to the Hudson River, right on the bank, so you could only get in, or see in, the side we came. 'My gosh. How did I not know about this?'

He laughed at me, _again, _and spoke softly, 'Invite only, darling, they must not have trusted the 'wild child' to keep it a secret. You sit here.' He told me, motioning to two armchairs, around a small circular table, facing the big windows. 'I'll go get us drinks?' his voice raised at the end, and it took me a moment to realise he wanted to know what I wanted.

I sat down and said 'Vanilla latte please.' Flashing my best grin at him.

_**Nathan's POV**_

She smiled at me with that smile that could win awards, in fact it probably had! Looking at her, it wasn't hard to see how she had managed to make it into modelling. She had that kind of natural beauty that most women strived for, I mean, not that I'm saying no one else isn't beautiful, because Haley is, but Peyton just had… something about her. Something that made her smile just that little bit more bright, and her laugh just that little bit more tinkling. I ordered our drinks from the barrister, and carried them over, setting them down carefully on the table. She jumped ever slo slightly, and sighed, before gazing her eyes from the view and looking at me, I took a small intake of breath upon noticing how sad she looked.

'Are you ok?' I asked her startled.

She shifted her eyes. 'My mom used to love sitting by the river.' She murmured so quietly, I don't think I was supposed to hear it. I watched, confused, as I physically saw her snap out of whatever was wrong. Plastering a smile on her face, that I instantly knew was fake, and not a real as her previous ones. 'I'm fine.' She told me. 'Thanks,' she said, before bending down slightly to pick up her drink.

'So how long do you reckon this meeting will take with Brooke and my wife?' I asked her.

She sighed, 'God knows, Brooke tends to get very over excited, could be a while.' She said laughing to herself.

'I read in a paper, you two are best friends, right?' I asked, genuinely wanting to know everything about this girl.

'Yeah, we met when I was-' her phone starting ringing shrilly in her bag and I wanted to throw it out of the window, I saw her dig through her bag and pull it out, and then frown at the screen.

'Can you ignore it?' I asked her.

'No, it's my brother, sorry. Excuse me for one moment.' She answered the phone and stood up to walk away. 'Ju-Ju, what's up?'

I slumped back in my chair, ok, yes. I was in a bit of a strop because of this. I want to get to know this girl and her stupid brother distracted us. Then I saw her come back over, and sat up expectantly.

'Hey, everything ok?' I asked.

'Yeah, no, I'm not really sure to be honest. I'm sorry, I have to go.' And she left. Just like that, leaving me on my own. Most girls would never walk away from me, even Haley, when we first met was throwing herself at me, well less than everyone else, but she wasn't so blasé about me. I like this girl…

**Right, I'm terrible. I haven't had the chance to write really, my boyfriend was in a car accident, so I've been spending a lot of time with him, and not to mention the fact that I have a gazillion exams soon, so my updating wil be very slow for now at least. I actually wrote half of this a couple of weeks ago then just came back to it now, le me know what you think about the changing writing styles? Too confusing? I love, love, love reviews, and knowing how you liked the chapter, so if you get a chance, I would be grateful to know what you think! EmmaJoie xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. First thing's first. Sorry, sorry, sorry! I started writing this over a month ago! Then all sorts of *rubbish* happened and I've been really sad, and this was completely at the back of my mind! But I felt guilty, and I have decided to finish this half written masterpiece just for you guys! Sorry if it's rubbish, really not completely feeling it at the moment. Oh well, hope you all enjoy3 **

Chapter3

Peyton POV

My brother sucks. He has the absolute worst timing, every single time. It's been this way since we were kids. I'm still holding a grudge against him when he distracted me when I was about seven, and I burnt my cake in my Easy Bake oven. And don't we don't even mention the time Danny McKittrick was round when I was sixteen, and we were, let's say… busy. But this one, this just plain annoyed me. It had better be important, because I was rather enjoying my time with Nathan Scott, number 23, small forward for the New York Knicks. Haha. I enjoy saying that, well thinking, but whatever. I can picture the excited way Brooke was saying it this morning, and the sound of it just makes me tingle. Oh my God. I should so _not _be thinking these things about a married man, especially when my brother has just phoned me sounding rather upset! I am a horrible person.

* * *

Nathan POV

'Haley?' I called out, closing the front door to my semi-mansion softly and dropping his keys in a nearby dish. 'You here, babe?' I tagged on the term of affection, despite the fact that I had nothing more than amicable feelings towards her.

'Yes. I'm in the kitchen!' I sighed and made my way through the overly (in my opinion) decorated hallway, passing a signed poster of Mick Wolfe, which made me smile and think of Peyton. I stopped. I only met her today, but she just had this weird effect on me. I continued into the kitchen with a huge grin on my face. 'What ya up t…' I trailed off, noticing who was in the kitchen with my wife. 'Lucas?'

'Hey, little brother.' he said, with a goofy grin on his face. Lucas is my half-brother, and he's only three months older than me, but we grew up closely when we were kids…

_I hated the smell of hospitals, always had, they made me think of the time Tim Smith pushed me out of a tree, and broke my wrist! I saw the nice nurse with the pink scrubs come over to me._

'_Hi Nathan, can I sit next to you?' she asked me quietly, and I just nodded, unsure why this nurse was coming to sit next to me. 'I'm really sorry pumpkin, your Mom and Dad didn't make it out in time. Is there anyone you know who I can call?'_

_I shook my head, no. there was no-one I could think of, except… 'Aunty Karen.'_

_The nurse blinked at me a couple of times, a confused look on her face. 'Karen, who's Karen?'_

'_Momma's best friend, she owns the café?' I added. 'Her son Lucas is my brother.'_

'_Oh.' Her mouth formed a perfect 'o' shape and she nodded and walked away._

I laughed. 'Luke! Man, it's so good to see you. What you doing here?' I walked over to him, grabbing his fist and knocking our shoulders together, the way we always used to when we were playing on the River court.

'Nothing much, just wanted to see how y'all were doing. Where's Jamie?'

'School, I assume?' I asked looking towards Haley. She nodded, yes.

Lucas nodded distractedly, 'So little brother, I read a little story about you…?' he trailed off leaving the sentence as a question.

I laughed. 'Does this story by any chance include a model by the name of Peyton Wolfe?'

He looked at me, 'Yes, yes it does. And as Haley's official best friend, I must ask… is it true? Dun dun duuuuuuuun?' he added on the end.

'You're such a dork Lucas, and no, no it is not true! I would never cheat on Hales.' I looked at her pointedly, and she looked away shiftily.

Luke laughed again. 'Haha, ok bro. Come one, let's go out on the court and throw a play some hoops! K?

I smiled, us brothers, in our element, about to play some b-ball. 'Sure thing big bro.'

* * *

'This had bloody well better be so important that it would be acceptable to have called in superman, and to have actually caused world-wide panic, or I swear to god, I will take your sad little guitar and smash it over you stupid little head, and you will be forced to pursue a career in photography or something.'

I heard Julian laugh in his living room. Oh boy, it's something stupid. I am not going to be happy with him at the end of this conversation, and he's probably going to have a headache.

'You are the most dramatic person I've ever met Pear. You should have gone into acting!'

I walked through his apple green hallway and into his living room where he was sprawled over the couch, his guitar leant against the wall on the other side of the room, just in case I needed it.

'Julian, this isn't funny. I was busy. What's going on that was so freaking important?'

He sighed, and sat up. 'You're going to want to sit down for this.' He told me, motioning to the spot next to him.

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, 'I think I'll survive.' I snapped at him.

'Fine.' He ran his hand through his hair, sighing, clearly conflicted about how to tell me. 'Chris is back.'

My arms immediately dropped from my cheat, my scowl vanished, and I slumped onto the sofa. 'Well, shit.'

**Sorry. Pretty sure that the A/N at the beginning is longer than the actual chapter, but I tried, honest. Who do you think Chris is, eh? ;) Not proof read at all. reviewwww!**


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